


Rise of the Guardians: The Unofficial Novelization

by Britannica0Graced



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fan Novelization of the Film, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britannica0Graced/pseuds/Britannica0Graced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You think they're myths? Think again. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Sandman, and Jack Frost all band together to fight against Pitch Black and save the word from being plunged into fear and darkness.</p><p>A fan novelization of the film by Dreamworks animation studios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novelization of the film, but it has a very special meaning to me, which I would like to share with you.
> 
> Two years ago, my mother lost her eyesight due to complications from diabetes. As a result, she wasn't able to see a lot of new movies, among many, many other things. When I first saw "Rise of the Guardians", I knew my mother (a lover of sweet children's stories) would adore RotG just as much as I did. I wanted so badly for her to experience every little nuance of this amazing film--something she could only have gotten through sight. So I decided to novelize the film for her, and then create an audiobook of it for her to listen to.
> 
> My mother's health took a turn for the worse early this year, and she passed away at the end of March. She was able to hear the first few chapters of this novelization, however, and she loved it dearly. In her memory, I am continuing to write the novelization, and I post it on this site in hopes that whoever sees it will enjoy it. 
> 
> And so:
> 
> The following novelization is written and published in loving memory of my beloved Mama. Thank you for supporting me in my writing, and for always being there to listen to numerous drafts and character ideas. I only wish you could have heard this story to the end. But maybe, from where you are right now, you can read it, and if you do, I hope you like it.

 

    Darkness. That's the first thing I remember; it was dark, and it was cold. And I was scared. I woke surrounded by icy water, my limbs numb and stiff, and my lungs burning for air.

     The next thing I remember was the light. It shone pure white in the water above my head. And I had the strangest feeling about it--like it was _beckoning_ me.

     Then I found myself moving through the water, being pulled up toward the light by unseen hands. I saw a spiderweb of cracks appear above me, and before I could wonder what was happening, I felt cold, hard chunks of ice slide accross my face. I was pulled into the open air, coughing and gasping as I filled my aching lungs with oxygen.

            I looked around for the light I had seen in the water--and found it in the clear, dark sky, nestled among the twinkling stars.

     It was the moon. For a timeless second, I looked up at it, mesmerized. It was so big and it was so bright, and it seemed to chase the darkness away. And when it did, I wasn't so scared anymore.     

           I heard a crackling sound beneath me, and I looked to see the ice shimmering and rippling, the broken pieces fusing back together as I was gently placed on to the ice. Had I just been floating?    I stood unsteadily on the slick surface, studying my new surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. I was standing on a large frozen lake, and all around it grew tall, ancient-looking trees, their branches heavily laden with sparkling white snow. Why I was there, and what I was meant to do, that I didn't know. I wondered if I ever would.

     Then I looked down at my hands, pale and cold, and I realized that I didn't even know who _I_ was. Nothing about me was familiar; not the rough woven shirt, the worn leather cape. Not the reflection of the round boyish face that looked up at me from the smooth, glass-like ice. And certaintly not the hooked staff that lay beside me on the frozen water.

     Curious, I prodded it with a toe. Frost immediately stretched across the twisted wood.

     That was strange.

     I crouched down, picking up the staff to study it. The moment my fingers closed around the wood, it leapt violently in my grip. I yelped in surprise as a sparkling cloud shot down the length of the staff, accompanied by a sharp crackling sound behind me. I turned to see a curling pattern of ice blooming out from the end of the staff. Wow; that hadn't been there before!

     I wondered for a second where the pattern had come from, then I crinkled my eyebrows in confusion. _Did_ I _do that?_ There was only one way to find out.

     Slipping and stumbling accross the ice, I managed to make my way over to a large tree on the shore of the lake. I tapped the crook of the staff against the bark. With a faint shimmer and a crackling sound, ice blossomed out from where the staff touched the wood. I ran my hand along the ice, amazed as I felt it, freezing, smooth and very real, beneath my fingers.

     I whirled around and tapped another tree trunk. Again, ice curled across the rough tree bark.

     Excitement bubbled up in me, filling my chest until it overflowed into laughter. I could make _ice!_ I broke off into a run, touching with my staff anything and everything within my reach. In a matter of minutes, trees, rocks, and patches of ground all grew a glassy layer of ice. Dragging the crook of the staff along behind me, I leapt back on to the lake, creating curling swirls of frost on the surface as I slid around. This was _fun!_ My laughter rung in the crisp air, and my heart soared into the night sky.      All of a sudden, a gust of wind rushed around me, picking me up into the air. It lifted me higher and higher, tumbling me head over heels. The world became a blur as I spun crazily around, still desparately clinging to my staff. I stretched my arms out to be sure I didn't crash into anything--and then I stopped tumbling. I was hovering above the treetops, looking down at the swirls of pale ice I had created on the lake. The wind still rushed around me, supporting my body. _I'm flying!_ I realized, and began to laugh sheepishly...

     Then the wind suddenly died, and I began plummeting downward. I sailed right into the trees, crashing through branches that clawed at my clothes and scratched my face. The snow on the branches that was disturbed by my fall exploded into shimmering clouds around me. Finally, I landed face-first on a thick, sturdy branch.     

When the world stopped spinning, I picked myself up...       

...and I noticed a flickering orange light in the heart of the forest.     

 

 

     My cloak snapped around me as the wind carried me through the forest and toward the strange light. Using my staff, I clumsily navigated through the trees, barely missing some and crashing into others. In a short time I had recieved a large collection of bumps and bruises, but I didn't stop until I reached the source of the light: a small settlement in a large, open clearing.

     My second landing wasn't much better than the first: I ploughed into the hard-packed earth on the outskirts of the settlement. I recovered quickly, however. Scrambling to my feet and brushing the snow off my cloak, I raced into the settlement, hoping to find someone who could tell me where I was.

     The settlement was a collection of dark wood buildings built close together, as if huddling together for warmth. A few large bonfires were burning here and there, illuminating the settlement with a warm orange glow. A handful of people were still lingering outside, and a soft buzz of conversation wafted through the cold air.        I marched into the settlement, casually greeting the people I met. I waved to a man carrying logs for a fire, who just kept on walking. "Good evening," I said to a woman who was heading into a house. She passed me by without even looking at me.

     "Good evening, Ma'am," I said to another woman who sitting outside a house, talking to a gentleman. She continued talking, completely ignoring me. The man she was talking to didn't seem to notice me, either.

     _Why is no one was paying any attention to me?_ I wondered.     Then, I noticed a small boy running in my direction. Well, at least someone saw me!

     As the boy approached, I squatted down so I could meet his gaze. "Excuse me," I said with a smile, "could you tell me where I am?"

     But the boy didn't hear me, either. He just kept on running, straight towards me. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to crash right into me. And then, the strangest thing happened.

     He ran straight _through_ me.

     He passed through my body as if it were no more than air. I gasped in suprise, scrambling to my feet just as another person came in my direction. They walked through me, too, tickling a little as they passed through my body.

     My heart began racing, and for the second time that night, I was scared. I stood in the middle of the settlement, calling out desparately to people who were deaf to my cries and and blind to my existence.

     I retreated back to the forest, back to the lake I would call home for years. My powers were momentarily forgotten, as well as the joy their discovery had brought me. I was so scared, so confused, my mind filled with too many questions I couldn't answer. Why couldn't anyone see or hear me? How could they walk right through me like that? Who _was_ I?

     That was when I first heard them. Those two, small words, that I heard as clear as day, though nobody said them and I didn't think them myself. _Jack Frost._

I crinkled by eyebrows and wondered: _Who is Jack Frost?_

Then it came to me: _That's my name. My name is Jack Frost._

How do I know that? The Moon told me so. But that was all it ever told me.

     And that was a long, long time ago.

  



	2. Chapter One: Calling the Guardians

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: The characters and idea belong to William Joyce, the actual happenings belong to Peter Ramsey and the other fine people at Dreamworks Studios who wrote the script. I own nothing, except for the actual novelizing.

* * *

 

* * *

_North Pole, 300 Years Later_

**BANG!  
**

The whole room seemed to shake as Nicholas St. North, better known to most as Santa Claus, slammed a massive block of ice onto his work table. A second later, a chainsaw roared to life. North hummed contentedly as the whirring steel teeth bit into the solid block, sending a spray of glittering ice shavings up into his face.

When he had cut a fist-sized chunk of ice from the block, North set the chainsaw aside and brushed the icy flakes off his long white beard. The small chunk of ice was dwarfed in his meaty paw of a hand as he held it, eying it appraisingly. North's bushy eyebrows knitted together as his mind mapped out the best way to create what he had imagined. Then he set the ice down, and crossed the room to fetch his tools.

On the way, North passed by a group of pointy red hats huddled around an empty plate on the carpeted floor. The elves were eating his lunch again.  
Smirking, North called over his shoulder, "Still waiting for cookies!" and watched out of the corner of his eye as the elves froze, then scurried away to get more sweets.

Once he had retrieved the worn leather pouch from a drawer, North dumped an assortment of tools onto the beaten and scarred surface of his work table. He selected a tiny hammer and chisel and got down to work, humming in time to the steady _plink plink plink_ of the hammer hitting the chisel as he sculpted the chunk of ice.

North worked skillfully, almost lovingly; chiseling, sculpting, and smoothing the ice with great diligence and care. Tiny hunks of ice fell to the carpet as he worked. Slowly, the ice began to take shape, transforming from an uneven block into a tiny ice train.

Blowing off the last ice shavings, North held up the train in triumph. It looked exactly how he had imagined it.

North carried the train to another table, on which he had made a large train track entirely out of ice. The track was a translucent roller-coaster. It ran along the length of the table, doubled back, then arched up into a series of graceful loops before ending sharply in a steep ramp.

It was on this track that North placed the little train, which, as if by magic, immediately began to chug along. Tiny puffs of steam emerged from its smokestack as the train raced along the table, turned, and gracefully corkscrewed through the loops. North watched, eager with anticipation, as the train raced up the ramp.

Just when it looked as if the train was going to chug right off of the track, it sprouted wings and soared into the air! North beamed with pride. It worked! He spread his arms wide in celebration as the little train rose higher and higher...

Suddenly, the door to North's private office flew open. The heavy wood collided with the fragile train, which fell in shattered pieces on the carpet. North cried out in shock. All that hard work, wasted!

North heard a sharp whimper from the doorway, and looked up to see a Yeti standing there. Like the other yetis that worked in North's workshop, this yeti was a massive bush of shaggy brown fur beneath which the glittering of two tiny eyes could barely be seen. North knew this yeti, and he also knew this was not the first time the creature had unceremoniously barged into his private office. The yeti seemed to remember this, too, and he gave a pitiful whimper of apology.  
North pinched the bridge of his nose with his meaty fingers, trying to keep his temper in check. When he spoke, his voice was a trifle harsh. "How many times have I told you to knock?!"

In response, the Yeti emitted a series of gargled noises. North, who understood the language of the Yetis, leaned forward in his chair, his clear blue eyes sparkling with interest-and confusion.

"What?" he asked. "The Globe?"

The Yeti nodded an affirmative, and North stood. On the way out of his office, he grabbed his scimitar, pulling the weapon from its sheath with a crisp _sshing._

* * *

The Globe of Belief stood at the very center of North's massive workshop. Several stories high and situated beneath a large skylight, the Globe was truly a sight to behold. Seas and countries were marked in curling, ancient-looking runes, and a sea of tiny golden lights blanketed the continents on the Globe, some places more heavily lit than others.

On one of the many balconies overlooking the Globe, North slowly made his way through a throng of pointy red hats.

"Shoo, with your pointy heads," he growled to the elves, and they scattered. North sighed in exasperation. "Why are you always under boot?" He muttered.  
North made it through the elves and brushed past two Yetis to find himself standing before the Globe's Control panel. From here, North had a clear vantage point of the Globe which, at first glance, looked normal. But then, in one second, hundreds of lights suddenly blinked out.

"What is this?" North whispered in astonishment, as the lights continued to go out by the hundreds.  
North turned to one of the Yetis standing beside him. "Have you checked the axis? Is rotation balanced?"

The Yeti began to grumble out a reply, but was cut off by a sudden gust of wind. The violent gale came out of nowhere, circling around the globe like a twister. North didn't have time to react before tendrils of what looked like _black sand_ also appeared out of nowhere. The tendrils of sand began to crawl across the Globe, twisting and writhing like snakes until the whole Globe was covered in shifting, inky blackness.

For a few moments, mayhem filled the workshop. Elves scattered for cover, the bells on their hats ringing wildly as they ran; stray papers were swept into the air, circling around the globe like debris picked up by a cyclone. The tendrils of sand covering the Globe picked up speed, whirling around the Globe in a frenzy.

And then suddenly, and with a sharp POP! the sand exploded into a dark cloud and dissipated. The freakish wind died.

Behind him, North heard a Yeti's grunt of surprise. He spun around, scimitar the ready, to see a swirl of black sand race along the floor before swooping up into the air again. The sand swirled and shifted, morphing into a vaguely familiar silhouette of a man. A shiver-inducing cackle rung in the air as the shadowy form looped once around the globe, and then was gone. The Globe's flickering lights returned to normal.

North stood quietly in the eerie silence that followed, trying to process what had just happened. He had no idea where the sand or the wind had come from. He did know, however, that the shadowy form, and the laughter it emitted, were all too familiar to him. They belonged to someone that North had not seen in centuries.

"Can it be?" North whispered softly to himself. For a moment, he doubted it. The thought was preposterous... _He_ couldn't be back; not after all these years!  
But something deep inside him, down in the very pit of his large belly, told him that it was true. After years of absence, Pitch Black was finally back. And there was no time to lose.

North's features hardened. "Dingle!" he barked over his shoulder, and immediately four elves scurried forward, each pointing to themselves. "Make preparations. We are going to have company."

Reaching out with one of his massive hands, North grabbed an emergency lever on the control panel. He twisted the lever, and pressed it into position. The North Pole of the Globe of Belief began to glow with rainbow colored light. The light separated into dancing ribbons that shone out of the skylight in all directions, stretching to the four corners of the Earth to call the Guardians of Childhood to the North Pole once more.

Who are the Guardians of Childhood, you ask? Certainly, you know of them! They are the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus. It is their job to watch over the children of the world, and keep them safe; to bring them wonder, hope, and dreams. And it was for one reason, and one reason only, that North called the other Guardians to the North Pole:

The children were in danger.

* * *

On the other side of the world, a young boy slept peacefully in his bed. To the tiny fairy that hovered inches above his face, it looked like he was sound asleep. The fairy-who looked more like a hummingbird than a fairy, what with her colorful feathers and long pointed beak-continued watching the boy for a moment, making sure he wasn't pretending. Some children did that; feigning sleep in order to catch a glimpse of the Tooth Fairy at work. But the fairy needn't have worried; the boy was out like a light.

Satisfied, the fairy dove beneath the boy's pillow. It was a tight spot, but the she was experienced-she had done this hundreds of times before. In one fluid movement, the little fairy grasped the tooth the boy had left beneath his pillow and left in its place a shiny quarter she had been carrying on her belt.

The fairy struggled out from underneath the pillow, and looked down at the baby tooth she held in her tiny hands. She twittered with excitement; it was a central incisor, shiny white and beautifully taken care of.

With the little tooth clutched safely in her grasp, the fairy zoomed through the glass of the boy's bedroom window and out into the night. She zipped through the starry sky, flying over continents and oceans, and not once stopping until she reached the tiny island that was home to the palace of Toothiana, Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies.

As usual, the Palace was a hive of organized chaos. Hundreds of thousands of colorful little fairies zoomed about in every direction. The tiny fairy flew past her sisters as they stowed baby teeth away in special boxes, or collected shiny new quarters before heading out on their nightly rounds.

And at the center of it all, like the Queen bee of a buzzing hive, floated a larger figure. Toothiana was a beautiful mixture of bird and woman; a human form completely covered in colorful feathers, except for her kind face. Her translucent fairy wings hummed softly as she floated in the air, barking out orders to her miniature Tooth Fairies:  
"Chicago, Sector 6: 37 molars, 22 bicuspids, 18 central incisors.  
"Moscow, Sector 9: 22 incisors, 18 premolars-uh-oh! heavy rain advisory!  
"Des Moines, we've got a cuspid at 23 maple." Tooth paused for breath. The small swarm of Fairies hovering above her head remained rooted in place, as if waiting for more instructions. "Head out!" she ordered them, and immediately, they scattered.

One fairy carrying a baby tooth zipped by Tooth's head. A sort of knowledge sprung forth in Tooth's mind, and she knew that that baby tooth was special.  
"Wait!" Tooth called, and the fairy passing by her stopped. "It's her first tooth." Tooth took the little tooth between her fingers, holding it up for the other fairies to see.

"Have you ever seen a more adorable lateral inciser in all of your life? Look how she flossed!" Tooth gushed, and her little Fairies twittered in excited agreement.  
Tooth beamed down at the pearly white in her palm-and then one of her fairies chirped urgently in her ear. There were strange lights in the sky.

Tooth turned around, and gasped when she saw the rainbow lights flickering there. The Guardians were being summoned for an emergency meeting.

Immediately, Tooth zoomed off in the direction of the lights, a swarm of her Fairies accompanying her.

* * *

Sanderson ManSnoozie, or the Sandman, as most of you know him, was just finishing his nightly rounds when he saw the lights in the sky. Situated on a golden cloud of sand far above a sleeping neighborhood, Sandy (a diminutive golden man with a kind, round face and spiky gold hair), sent swirling streams of golden sand-Dreamsand-into the bedrooms of believing children, giving them good dreams.

A tendril of golden sand curled out of Sandy's palm as he gestured to a nearby window. The stream of Dreamsand looped and danced through the air, filtering through the bedroom window before it came to a stop above the head of the little girl sleeping there. The Dreamsand swirled and shifted, taking the form of the girl's dream-a fairy with golden wings.

Suddenly, a light caught Sandy's eye. Glimpsing the Guardian's Call, and knowing what it meant, Sandy immediately made preparations to leave for the North Pole. In a sudden swirl of golden sand, he transformed his little sand cloud into a sand bi-plane. Adjusting goggles over his golden eyes, Sandy turned his plane northward and soared off into the night.

* * *

E. Aster Bunnymund bounded through one of his many tunnels far below the Earth's surface. Wind rushed in his ears, and his powerful paws thrummed against the hard-packed Earth as he ran.

When he had traveled far enough, Bunny skittered to a halt. Drawing himself up on his hind legs, he tapped a back paw against the ground. Immediately, a large rabbit hole opened above his head, sending a cascade of shimmering snow into the earthen tunnel.

Tentatively, Bunny rose up and out of the hole, first his long, gray ears, and then the rest of him. The world around him was completely white, except for the colorful ribbons of light that was the Guardian's signal dancing overhead, in the bright blue sky.

For a moment, Bunny simply stood in the snow. He was a six foot tall rabbit-or a Pooka, as Bunny's kind was once called-with piercing green eyes and a twitching pink nose. A pair of boomerangs hung from a holster on his back.

Then an icy blast of wind chilled Bunny right down to the skin, and he hunched over, hugging himself for warmth.

"It's freezing," he muttered, before bounding off into the snow. In a short time, his paws became numb.

"I can't feel my feet! I can't feel my feet!" He hollered to no one in particular, his voice echoing off the glaciers as Bunny bounded toward North's Workshop.


	3. Chapter Two: The New Guardian

* * *

 

 **Chapter** **Two:** **The** **New** **Guardian**

* * *

 

"Cookies, eggnog? Anyone?" North asked, as he led Tooth and Bunny (Sandy hadn't arrived yet) down a hallway and toward his study.

It was evident that North's emergency call had inconvenienced both Guardians. Tooth was so busy giving orders to her mini-fairies that she didn't seem to hear North's offer of refreshments, while Bunny, hopping along beside her, scowled. It was only three days until Easter, and Bunny was not at all pleased at being taken from his work preparing colorful Easter Eggs in his Warren.

"This better be good, North," Bunny warned. By this time, they had reached North's study--a large, open and bookshelf-lined room that overlooked the Globe of Belief--and the Pooka immediately bounded off in the direction of the nearest fireplace, to thaw his frostbitten paws.

Tooth hovered nearby, still barking out orders to her fairies: "Montreal, sector six: ten premolars, eight incisors and twelve canines. Steer clear of the wild goose migration!"

North saw a bright glimmer of gold out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Sandy's bi-plane circling around the Globe, streams of Dreamsand fluttering from behind the wings of the plane like golden ribbons. Sandy had gotten out of the cockpit and was floating toward North.

North spread his muscular arms in welcome. "Sandy! Thank you for coming." Sandy gestured furiously with his small golden hands as a barrage of Dreamsand images flashed above his head, conveying the message: I'M VERY BUSY AND I HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO.

  North raised his hands pacifyingly. "I know, I know. But I obviously wouldn't have called you all here, unless it was serious."

That seemed to get the other Guardians' attention: Sandy looked to North expectantly, while Bunny turned from the fireplace and Tooth did her best to shush the mini-fairies.

Into the pregnant silence, North announced, "The Boogie Man was _here,_ at the _Pole!_ " "Pitch?!" Tooth squawked, the crown-like plume of colorful feathers on her head bristling in surprise, "Pitch _Black?!_ Here?"

Pitch Black, also called the Boogey Man and the Nightmare King, was the Guardian's arch enemy. Pitch was a being of the shadows, his heart black as the night through which he prowled. He was twisted and sinister, but cunning as a serpent. Pitch delighted in corrupting the dreams of the believeing children the Guardians protected, spreading fear and taking away their innocent belief. He was a credible threat to the children, and it was the Guardians' job to protect them from him, at all costs.

In response to Tooth's surprised query, North nodded, gesturing toward the Globe of Belief. "Yes. There was black sand covering the Globe"--

"What, what'da mean, _black sand?”_ Bunny asked. He hopped toward North, his frozen paws forgotten.

North, unfazed by Bunny's interruption, continued, "And then, a shadow--"

"Hold on, hold on," Bunny said, as he retrieved a paintbrush and a half-painted egg from his bandolier, "I thought you said you saw _Pitch._ "

North smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. He had been afraid of that... "Well, ah...not exactly..."

" _Not exactly?_ " smiling incredulously, Bunny turned to Sandy. "Can you believe this guy?"

Smiling, the Sandman shrugged in response, forming a Dreamsand question mark above his head.

"Yeah. You said it, Sandy." Bunny chuckled, and returned his attention to the Easter egg in his paw.

North's features darkened. They were straying from the point! "Look, he is up to something very bad. I feel it--" he paused dramatically, "In my belly!" He grabbed his jiggling stomach for emphasis. Three of Tooth's mini-fairies swooped down to look at his stomach, squeaking questioningly.

Across the room, Bunny's eyes narrowed, and his long gray ears flopped back behind against his head. "Hang on, hang on. You mean to say that you summoned me here _three days before Easter_ because of your _belly_? Mate, if I did this to you three days before Christmas..."

North smiled and patted the grumpy Pooka on the cheek, saying cheerfully as he did so, "Please, Bunny. Easter is not Christmas." North took the colorful egg from Bunny's paw, juggling it carelessly in his hand as he walked away. Really, Bunny made too much of a to-do over his holiday. All he was doing was painting _eggs!_

Bunny's eyes shrank into narrow green slits, and he forced a humorless laugh. Leave it to North to bring up their greatest subject of contention: which holiday was more imporant. "Here we go," Bunny muttered, and bounded after North.

Knowing that North had just initiated an argument with Bunny that would last for some time, Tooth turned back to her fairies ("Argentina! Priority alert! A batch of bicuspids in Buenos Aires!"), while Sandy refreshed himself with some eggnog a yeti offered to him on a tray. The little man had just downed his fourth cup, and was snatching his fifth out of the reach of a mooching elf, when a brilliant white light caught Sandy's eye.

Sandy looked toward the source of the light--the skylight above the Globe of Belief--and immediately dropped his cup in shock. For there, perfectly visible in the bright blue sky, was the full Moon. It was raining down bright shafts of milky moonlight on the Globe.

Sandy motioned to North and Bunny, but the two Guardians were too busy going back-and-forth to notice:

"North, I don't have time for this! I've still got _two million eggs_ to finish up!"

"No matter how you paint, is still egg!" North laughed, proffering the stolen egg to Bunny.

"Look, mate. I'm dealing with _perishables._ Right. You've got all year to prepare!" Bunny took the egg back, dabbing at the fragile surface with his brush.

North playfully nudged Bunny's paw with a hand, nearly causing the Pooka to drop the blue and pink egg. "Why are rabbits always so nervous?"

"And why are _you_ always such a blowhard!" Bunny countered, pointing accusingly at North with the shaft of his paintbrush.

Tooth floated into view in between them, causing North and Bunny to look up at her in surprise. Though it wasn't exactly clear whether their suprise stemmed from the fact that they forgot she was there, or because they were impressed that she was _still_ _talking_ : "Ontario, sector nine: five canines, two molars, and fourteen incisors. Is that all in one house?"

"Tooth!" North chided, "Can't you see we are trying to argue?"

Toothiana raised her hands innocently. "Sorry. Not all of us get to work one night a year. Am I right, Sandy?"

She beamed down at Sandy, who formed a Dreamsand arrow above his head, using it to point directly up at the skylight, where the Moon still loomed overhead.

Tooth gasped, and for a moment, it looked as if Sandy had gotten her attention. But she turned to her fairies and burst out, "San Diego, sector two! Five incisors, a bicuspid and a really loose molar on stand-by!"

As Sandy fumed, North and Bunny resumed their argument:

"Come on, mate," Bunny said pacifyingly, carelessly sweeping an arm through Sandy's unnoticed Dreamsand arrow as he gestured, "Pitch went out with the Dark Ages. Right. And we made sure of it."

North scowled, and spat back, "I _know_ it was him. We have serious situation."

The Sandman balled his fists and let out a silent growl of frustration. What did he have to do to get the other Guardians' attention?!

Then he noticed an elf standing nearby, lapping up the eggnog from the cup that Sandy had dropped. Silently, Sandy floated up behind the unsuspecting elf. In one swift motion, he had grabbed the elf by his pointy red hat. Sandy shook the elf as hard as he could, causing the bell on the elf's hat to ring loudly. The bell's silver notes cut into the other Guardians' conversations and _finally_ caught their attention. North, Tooth, and Bunny all turned to look questioningly at a scowling Sandy, who released the dizzy elf (it fell to the cloor with a _clank_ ) and formed a crescent moon above his head. When Sandy pointed furiously up at the skylight, the other three Guardians turned to look.

North's face brightened when he caught sight of the full moon. "Ah! Man in Moon!" he exclaimed jovially, before turning back to Sandy, "Sandy, why didn't you say something?"

Sandy's ire was perfectly conveyed by his deadpan stare and the Dreamsand smoke that blew out of his ears.

But North's attention was already turned back to the skylight. The large man beamed, spreading his arms wide in welcome. He knew the Man in the Moon (who was the founder of the Guardians of Childhood, and the oldest and wisest of them all) would be watching them all through his telescope.

"It's been a long time, old friend!" North called, "What is big news?"

In response, the Moonlight flooding through the skylight grew brighter and brighter, until it shone, concentrated like a spotlight, on large compass rose on the floor.

The compass rose was a large, ornately decorated diamond. At each of the diamond's four points were small pictures of the Guardians: North to the North, Tooth to the South, Sandy to the West and Bunny to the East. And in the center of the diamond was an ornate, silver letter: the letter "G."

It was on this compass rose that the moonlight shifted, casting a silhouette onto the stone. The Guardians stiffened at the profile of a man with spiky hair and a hooked nose. It was the same figure that North had seen swooping around the Globe. The other three Guardians knew who it was in an instant.

"It _is_ Pitch." Bunny said, looking to North solemnly.

North gave Bunny a pointed look, patting his stomach. Then he looked back to the Moon. "Manny, what must we do?"

The moonlight concentrated on the "G" design on the compass rose. The letter glowed a bright blue, and suddenly, a secret panel shifted aside, and an object began to rise up from the floor: a large blue crystal jutting out of a huge moon rock. The moonlight caught in the crystal, sending shards of blue light pointing in every direction and dancing on the paneled walls. A blue, hazy light hung over the crystal like mist, slowly, ever so slowly, it began to take on a shape.

Knowing what was going on, Tooth beamed at the others. "Uh, guys, you know what this means?"

"He's chosen a new Guardian!" North said, his blue eyes wide with wonder.

Bunny looked slightly taken aback. "What? Why?"

North shrugged. "Must be big deal. Manny thinks we need help."

"Since when do _we_ need _help?_ " Bunny scoffed, and that comment probably would have opened up a whole nother window of conversation between himself and North had not Tooth excitedly interjected, "I wonder who it's gonna be?"

Sandy raised his hand with an idea as a Dreamsand four-leaf clover came into existence above his head.

"Maybe the Leprechaun?" Tooth asked him, and Sandy nodded brightly.

"Please not the Groundhog. Please not the Groundhog." Bunny pleaded under his breath, almost afraid to look at the Moon-crystal for fear of seeing the image if the tailless rodent squinting nearsightedly down at him from above the crystal.

While the other Guardians chattered, North watched the crystal intently, beaming with eager anticipation, as the soft blue glow morphed into the spectral image of a lanky, barefooted figure, holding a hooked staff. The figure was dressed simply, in a pair of tattered breeches and a hooded sweatshirt. And beneath the hood of the sweatshirt, the Guardians saw a round, boyish face (and a rather handsome one, at that), with bright eyes and a thin mouth upturned in an impish smile.

There was a short, shocked pause.

"Jack Frost," North said, surprised, but accepting. After all, the Man in the Moon was the wisest of all of them, and surely he knew what he was doing.

Bunny, however, was not as trusting. Looking shocked (and perhaps a little horrified), the Pooka held his paws up in surrender. "I take it back; the Groundhog's fine."

Tooth didn't say anything for a moment. She was lost in a world of her own, contemplating the image of Jack with the dreamy, moony-eyed gaze of a lovestruck teenager. Around her, her mini-fairies cooed and squealed over the handsome winter sprite, as teenage girls might squeal over a movie star. One little fairy even fainted, dropping from the air and onto the stone floor.

Realizing North, Bunny, and Sandy were looking to her for a response, Tooth immediately righted herself, smiling with embarrassment as she awkwardly stammered out, "Well, ah, as long as he helps to ah... to protect the children, right?"

"JACK FROST?!" Bunny shouted incredulously. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He doesn't _care_ about children! All he does is freeze water pipes and mess with my egg hunts!" Bunny pointed an accusing finger at the image. "Right. He's an irresponsible, selfish--"

"Guardian," North finished for him, smiling approvingly at the image of the new Guardian before him. North seemed amused that the mere mention of the mischievous winter sprite flustered the mostly stoic Pooka.

"Jack Frost is many things, but he is _NOT_ a Guardian!" Bunny exclaimed, glaring up at the image of Jack, which still smiled coyly beneath the hood of the sweatshirt, as if he knew he were about to prove the Pooka wrong.


	4. Chapter Three: Wind, Take Me Home!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long to update; life has been a little hectic lately. But I'm back, and hopefully will be able to return to posting once a week. :)

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three: Wind, Take Me Home!

At the touch of a staff, a mailbox in St. Petersburg grew a fernlike streak of Frost. Moving down from the mailbox, the trail of Frost shot across the street and wound up a water fountain, where a young Russian boy was taking a drink. The water trickling from the fountain instantly froze into a graceful curve of ice, with the boy's tongue stuck to it. The boy's friends, standing nearby, stopped their chattering to laugh.  

The Frost wound back down the water fountain, before shooting across the street and beneath the feet of a man carrying packages. The man slipped and landed with an undignified splat on the asphalt.

The Frost continued on, climbing the outer wall of an apartment building, curving and snaking its way accross the brick until it reached a window, where another boy was bent over his goldfish bowl, shaking some feed into the water. The boy didn't notice the Frost until the winow pane and the _goldfish bowl_ frosted over, covering surface of the water in the fish bowl with a thin layer of ice.

The Frost snaked around a corner or the apartment building and came to an open window, where a writer sat, pouring over a thick stack of papers--his latest manuscript. A pigeon sat on the windowsill, cooing quietly. The sudden appearance of Frost on the windowsill scared the pigeon, who flapped away, the gust of wind caused by the bird's ascent taking some of the writers papers with it.

The stream of Frost journeyed through St. Peterburg--snaking its way up and down the walls of buildings and stringing over clotheslines, turning the clothes hanging from them stiff and brittle with the cold.

The icy trail of mischief ended on the tall spire of a building. There, carelessly swinging from the spire with one hand, and gripping his hooked staff in the other, was Jack Frost. The winter sprite grinned as he surveyed the trail of Frost he had left in St. Petersburg.

"Now that," he sighed contentedly, " _That_ was fun."

He eyed the scene for a moment more, before lifting his head and calling into the dark night sky, "Hey Wind!"

A questioning breeze ruffled his snow-white hair, as if asking: _"Where do you want to go?"_

"Take me home!" Jack ordered, and the Wind was quick to comply. It rushed around him, lifting his body from the spire of the building and launching him into the night sky. Jack whooped and hollered as he soared among the clouds, gambolling in the air as he rode the wind across the ocean, over a horizon and down into the tiny Pennsylvania town of Burgess.

"SNOW DAY!" Jack yelled joyfully. He dive-bombed from the sky and down into the center of town. Jack zoomed through the streets, leaving in his wake icy blasts of wind that caused pedestrians to clutch at their hats and shrug deeper into their winter coats.

Jack swooped back up into the clear blue sky and soared above the treetops on the outskirts of town. When he dove ground ward again, he landed on the frozen surface of a very familiar lake--the lake from which Jack had been pulled by unseen hands on the first night of his life, so many years ago. Laughing all the while, Jack slid across the lake on his bare feet, covering the pristine surface with curling swirls of frost.

Another gust of Wind lifted him into the air again, launching him over the head of a young boy walking alone by the lake, reading a book. The small gale caused by Jack's passing made the boy's book sail right out of his hands. It flapped through the air for a few seconds before landing, face-down, on the dirt path the boy was walking on.

As the surprised boy ran to retrieve his book, Jack landed nearby. Crouching down to get a closer look, the winter sprite cocked his head to read the title: THEY’RE OUT THERE! - MYSTERIES, MYTHICAL CREATURES, AND THE UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA.

"Huh. Looks interesting," Jack commented to the boy. "Good book?"

As usual, the boy didn't see Jack, or hear a word he said. He merely picked up his book, dusted off the cover, and looked it over for signs of damage.

As Jack watched, he realized that he knew this boy's face: this was Jamie Bennett. At eight years old, Jamie was still adamant about the existence of aliens and Bigfoot, and he was determined to believe in supposed myths like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, no matter what.

 _If there was anyone in this town who could possibly believe in me,_ Jack mused, _it would be Jamie._

Over his past three-hundred years of life, Jack had managed to figure out why no one could see or hear him. You see, in the world of sprites and magic that Jack was part of, it was a law of nature that human mortals could not see spirits like Jack, unless they believed in them. And in a world of hundreds of millions of people, not one of them believed in Jack Frost. Most people hadn't even _heard_ of him! And if they _had_ heard of Jack, they considered him to be nothing more than than a quaint expression. "Jack Frost will nip at your nose" was a threat that had been used by many a mother whose children were reluctant to wear scarves and hats during the winter months.

But Jack was hoping that one day, all this would change. He had found that, while people couldn't see or hear _him,_ they _could_ experience the snow, frost, and ice that Jack conjured.   That's why Jack had been spreading mischief in Russia the night before, and every other night (and day) of his life. He was trying to get people to see him. By using his powers to cause odd happenings in the human world, Jack was trying desperately to plant a small seed of doubt in some human's mind, to make them think that maybe, just maybe the world they saw and heard and felt wasn't all there was; that there was another dimension, an entire parallel world of people and places that humans could only discover through belief. And in that parallel world, there was a lonely boy who was trying desperately to get their attention.

Jack's reverie was broken by the sound of two sets of footsteps thundering up the path behind him. He looked to see two boys running up to Jamie, whooping and hollering gleefully. The boys--Caleb and Claude were their names, if Jack remembered right--had the same mischievous brown eyes, and tendency for roughhousing. Caleb and Claude were completely identical; the only way Jack managed to tell them apart was the fact that Caleb's hair always stood up like a skyscraper, while Claude never failed to wear a red knit cap that covered his hair and nearly fell over his eyes. "Yeah! Snow day!" Claude called, as he shoved Jamie playfully. Jamie grinned and ran after them, his book tucked safely beneath his arm.

Jack couldn't help but beam at the children’s' joy. This was one of his favorite parts of making snowstorms; seeing the children so happy and knowing that _he_ had put that happiness there. That knowledge always managed to soften the ache of being alone for three hundred years, if even for a moment.

"You're welcome!" Jack called after the boys, as they headed down the path. He stood there for a second, head cocked, before he decided to follow them. Swooping up on a gust of Wind, Jack hovered above the boys as they made their way back to Jamie's house.

"Are you guys coming to the egg hunt Sunday?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah, free candy!" Caleb exclaimed, punching his fist in the air.

"I hope we can find the eggs with all this snow!" Claude added.

The boys continued on down the path, along a sidewalk, across a street and up a hill to Jamie's backyard. While the boys pushed aside a loose board in the fence and clambered through the small opening, Jack landed gracefully on the top of the fence. He paced back and forth atop the thin boards with perfect balance, his staff laid across his shoulders like an ox's yoke, his arms draped over the twisted wood as he watched the boys.

Jamie led the way through the toy-littered backyard, his freckled nose back in his book, while Caleb and Claude roughhoused behind him. Suddenly, something Jamie read caused his head to pop back up again, his brown eyes wild with excitement.

"Whoa!" Jamie exclaimed. "It says here that they found Big Foot hair samples and DNA in Michigan! That's like, super close!"

An exasperated Claude rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

Jamie snapped his book shut and collected his sled. "You saw that video too, Claude. They're out there."

"That's what you said about aliens!" Caleb teased.

"And the Easter bunny!" Claude laughed. Behind him, Jack perked up at the name.

Jamie smirked at the twins, taking their teasing in stride. "The Easter Bunny _is_ real," Jamie assured them, cooly and confidently.

Jack smirked. He knew a thing or two about the legendary Pooka. "Oh, he's real alright," Jack said. "Real grumpy, real annoying, and _really_ full of himself!"

Jack hopped off the fence, lightly landing on the frozen grass.

Caleb laughed harshly at Jamie. "Come on. You guys will believe anything!"

As if on cue, Jamie's little sister, Sophie, ran across the back porch, the family greyhound, Abbie, in tow. "Easter bunny! Hop! Hop! Hop!" Sophie exclaimed, giggling as she hopped down the porch steps. Abbie accidentally knocked her over on the last step, the little girl fell to the ground. "Ow!" she yelped, and immediately began to bawl.

Jamie rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Mom! Sophie fell again!" he called over his shoulder, as he hefted the sled in his arms. He and the twins headed toward the back gate.

Jamie's Mom promptly appeared out of the back door of the house, comforting Sophie before coming after Jamie.

"Jamie, hat?" she scolded, plunking a flap hat on Jamie's head. It sat, cockeyed, over his rumbled brown hair. "We don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose."

"Who's Jack Frost?" Jamie asked, indignantly straightening his hat.

Jamie's Mom turned away, chuckling. "No one, honey. It's just an expression."

Jack, now lounging against a fence post, stiffened at the words. "Hey!" he called after Jamie's mother, offended. But as usual, no one heard him.

The boys exited the yard (through the gate, this time) and headed off toward the local park. Jack slid off the fence, trailing behind.

"Who's Jack Frost?" he asked the air. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth lifted in a mischievous smirk. He bent down, scooping up a handful of snow. He shaped it into a perfect snowball, then, _gently,_ Jack blew on it, and the snowball began to glow a soft, icy blue.

Jack's smirk spread into a full blown smile as he--with a precision borne of three-hundred years of practice--launched the snowball at Jamie's retreating form.

THWACK! The snowball hit the boy square in the back, knocking him forward a few steps. Jamie looked chagrined for a moment--and then a smile slowly spread accross his face as the magic of Jack's icy snowball took effect.

"Okay, who threw that?" Jamie called.

Jack flew up behind him, smirking. "Well, it wasn't Big Foot, kiddo."

Jamie spied two children nearby, building a snow fort. Thinking they were the culprits, Jamie made a snowball and threw it as hard as he could. A second later, a blonde boy with glasses fell forward into the snow fort, the back of his green jacket dusted with the remains of Jamie's snowball. Monty grunted as he picked himself up.

Making a snowball of his own, Jack tossed it at the other child--a girl with wisps of red hair peeking out from beneath a blue-and-white striped hat. The sudden impact sent Pippa sprawling into the snow.

"Jamie Bennet! No fair!" Pippa sounded angry, but she was smiling.

Jamie laughed. "You struck first!"

Behind Jamie, Claude was struck by one of Jack's snowballs. Caleb, standing nearby, started to laugh at his brother, until he too found himself with a face full of snow.

"Free for all!" Jack yelled. And just like that, a snowball fight erupted. The children screamed and laughed, pummeling each other mercilessly with snowballs. Jack ran about unseen in the midst of the children, dodging their snowballs and hitting them with his own in turn.

"Alright, who needs ammo?" Jack asked. With a wave of his staff, a pile of snowballs appeared at the children's feet.

The snowball fight continued on with no signs of stopping. That is, until Jamie, holding his sled in front of him as a shield and not really looking where he was going, fell back into a snowman, knocking off the head and crushing the rest. To add insult to injury, an errant snowball promptly hit the owner of the snowman in the back of the head.

Cupcake, a tall, burly third-grader, turned around with a menacing growl. The children immediately fell still and silent, cowering in fear. "Crud, I hit Cupcake!" Pippa whispered. "She hit Cupcake!" Monty said, pointing accusingly at Pippa.

"You hit Cupcake," Claude squeaked, his eyes wide in terror.

Poor Jamie, still lying in the crushed remains of the snowman, tried to hide beneath his sled as a very angry-looking Cupcake lumbered toward them, holding the head of her snowman. She scowled at the children, and for a moment it looked as if the kids were in serious trouble...

And then she was promptly smacked in the face with an icy snowball.

"Did you throw that?" Caleb asked his brother.

"Nope!" Claude answered, taking a step back.

Pippa shook her head vehemently. "Wasn't me!"

Little did the children know that it was Jack, perched above their heads on the crook of his staff, who had thrown the snowball.

Jack watched Cupcake's face closely, smiling knowingly as he saw his magic transform the girl's surly expression into one of happiness. Cupcake grinned, letting out a hesitant laugh.

In minutes, what would have been a bitter fight between Cupcake and the other children, turned into a romp in the snow. Cupcake playfully chased the other children, laughing and yelling as they trooped though the snow drifts.

It wasn't until Jack zoomed by them, with a harsh gust of Wind and a cry of "Ooh, a little slippery!" that the children all fell into a pile--all except Jamie, who had fallen on top of his sled and was zipping down the slippery path of glistening ice that hadn't been there before.

The other children watched in horrid fascination as Jamie zoomed down the hill at breakneck speed, headed straight for the street.

Now, sledding anywhere near a street is a very, _very_ dangerous thing to do. Jamie knew this--his mother had told him at least a hundred times _not_ to do this--and he was terrified as his sled, with what seemed like a will of its own, began to race into the middle of traffic.

Even as a terrified Jamie raced directly toward a row of honking cars, Jack remained as calm and cool as ever. The winter sprite was flying alongside Jamie, directing the track of ice on which Jamie's sled zoomed along.

"Don't worry, Jamie! I got ya!" Jack called cheerfully, steering Jamie safely past the cars. He directed the ice path around a corner, where a large furniture truck went into a tailspin as it swerved to get out of Jamie's way. The back door of the truck crashed open, and a large sofa flew out and onto the ice path, zipping along behind a screaming Jamie.

"Hold on. It's gonna be alright!" Jack encouraged. Still soaring through the air beside Jamie, Jack studied the boy's face. It was blank with terror. Well, Jack wouldn't have that. He'd turn that fearful face into a smile!

"Keep up with me, kid! Take a left!" Jack called. He zoomed ahead of Jamie, directing the ice path around another corner. Jamie shot past a man walking his two dogs. Startled, the man let go of the dogs' leashes, and the dogs ran away, barking madly.  

"Hey! Slow down!" the man yelled after Jamie.

But Jamie's sled didn't slow down. In fact, it just kept going faster and faster until Jamie was nothing but a blur to the people be passed.

"No, no, no!" Jamie pleaded with his sled. He instead bumped up onto the sidewalk, rushing head on into a crowd of people who did their best to get out of his way.

"Whoa, there you go," Jack said, as he wove Jamie through the crowd and back onto the street. Jamie flew off the sidewalk and nearly ran over the Post Man. The man flailed comically and almost lost his footing. Jamie laughed in spite of himself.

Jack smiled as he watched an expression of joy and excitement tentatively spread across Jamie's face. And then Jack started when he noticed Jamie heading straight into the path of an oncoming snowplough.

"Whoa!" Jack called, veering the ice path out of the way of the snow plough. He finally ended the ice path at a sidewalk leading into the local park. With a wave of his staff, Jack created a steep ice ramp at the end of the path. He then watched in anticipation as Jamie came to the end of the ice path, flew up the ramp, and was launched into the air!

Still clinging to his sled for dear life, Jamie soared through the air in a graceful arc. Jack was able to see the boy's face practically glow with excitement...before it was planted firmly into a nice soft snow pile in the middle of the park

"Yeah!" Jack cheered. He landed on a nearby statue and punched his fist into the air. Surely, the kids would believe in him now! Surely, they would know that all this did not happen by itself, that someone had caused it...

Jamie's friends, who had been running after Jamie the entire time, now came into view, all talking at once: "Jamie! Jamie, are you alright? Wow, that looks serious. Is he alright?"

Jamie, dizzy from his wild ride, staggered to his feet in delirious excitement. " _Whoa!_ Did you guys see that? It was amazing! I did a jump, and then I slid under this thing, and--ACK!"

Without warning, the couch that had fallen out of the tail spinning furniture truck and onto the ice track finally caught up with Jamie, crashing into him and knocking him over.

Jack cringed. He hadn't meant for _that_ to happen. "Oops," he said apologetically.

The kids collectively winced. They were still for a moment, waiting for Jamie to start shrieking in pain. When Jamie remained silent, they ventured a step forward. Jamie unexpectedly popped out from behind the couch, holding something small and pearly white triumphantly above his head.

"Whoa! A tooth!" Jamie called, beaming at the baby tooth in his palm.

"Dude! That means cash!" Caleb exclaimed.

"Tooth Fairy cash!" Claude added.

"Oh no," Jack groaned.

Once again, Jack's plans for getting the children to see him were dashed to the snowy ground. The magical snowball fight and the wild sled ride were quickly forgotten as the children began to talk about the Tooth Fairy and what Jamie was going to do with his money. As they chattered, the children turned away to walk back home, leaving Jack still perched on the statue.

"Ah, wait a minute!" Jack called after the children, clambering down from the statue and trotting after them, "Come on! Hold on, hold on. What about all the fun we just had? That wasn't the Tooth Fairy, that was _me_!"

He swooped up into the air and landed in front of them. "What does a guy have to do to get a little attention around here?" Jack asked, as the children approached.

Any other words Jack would have spoken died instantly on his lips as Jamie, still smiling and chattering with his friends, walked straight through Jack. Jack started, still not used to the strange tickling feeling of someone walking right through his body, as if he didn't exist. His shock soon faded into sadness and then, frustration. Why could he never seem to get anyone to see him, no matter how hard he tried?

As the winter sprite's heart sank, so did the temperature. Snowflakes began to fall from the dark, brooding clouds that had suddenly gathered overhead. In the distance, Jack could hear the children commenting about how cold it had suddenly gotten.

With a frustrated scowl, Jack stuffed a hand into the frosted pocket of his blue hoodie and flew off into the darkening winter sky.


	5. Chapter Four: Dreams, Nightmares, and Other Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being such a slowpoke in posting; I'm hoping to turn put a new chapter every Saturday, but we shall see how that goes...

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* * *

* * *

**Chapter** **Four** :

**Dreams** , **Nightmares** , **and** **Other** **Surprises**

* * *

 

Jack hadn't didn't know himself why he returned to Jamie's house later that night. He would have liked to think that it was concern for Jamie's well-being--after all, the kid _had_ taken a pretty hard knock from that sofa. But perhaps it was a tiny glimmer of hope, a thought that maybe Jack's efforts had not been entirely forgotten, that led the winter sprite to Jamie's bedroom window.

Hanging upside down outside the window, Jack was surprised--and a little touched--by what he saw. On the wall of Jamie's bedroom, surrounded by colorful posters of monsters and myths, was a crayon sketch that Jamie had drawn, depicting the boy on his sled, raining snowballs down on his friends as they battled in an epic snowball fight.

And closer to the window, jumping up and down on his bed with exuberant excitement, was Jamie. The boy was standing on the bed in front of his little sister Sophie, illustrating the sevents of the afternoon with a toy robot. He jumped up and down on the bed with excitement as he told his story:

"...I did this jump and it was amazing and I slid under a car and it was awesome! Then I was flying down this hill and I was like whoosh, whoosh, whoosh through all

these cars, and then the sled hit this, this thing, and I was like way up in the air!" Jamie jumped on the bed, holding the robot aloft before he came crashing back down on the mattress, sending both him and Sophie bouncing.

 

Jamie continued, "And then, the sofa hit me, and see, my tooth came out!" he hooked a finger under his upper lip and pulled it up so Sophie could see the gap.

"Wow," Sophie breathed in awe. She immedately tried to stick one of her own tiny fingers into the empty space in Jamie's mouth.  

Jamie's mother walked into the room then, with the family dog Abbie trailing along behind her. "Alright Jamie. Tooth under your pilow?"

Jamie put the robot down on his bedside table and grabbed a flashlight out from under his pillow. "Yeah, I'm ready," he said, snapping on the flashlight experimentally.

"Now don't stay uplate trying to see her, Jamie, or she won't come."

"But I can do it this time!" Jamie pouted, before turning to Sophie, who was still sitting next to him on the bed. "You wanna help me, Soph? We can hide and see the Tooth Fairy!"

Sophie clapped her small hands in delight. "Hide, hide, hide!" she exclaimed.

Jamie's mother shook her head, scooping the overtired Sophie up into her arms. "Uh, uh. Straight to bed now, Mister."

"But Mom," Jamie whined, even as Abbie jumped up into the bed and showered the little boy's face with doggie kisses.

Outside, Jack felt a pang of sadness as he watched the small, happy family. That was another thing Jack longed for, besides the wish to be seen and heard: to have a family of his very own. A mother and father, and perhaps a younger brother, or sister, like Jamie had.

As a cold, lonely ache seeped into the pit of Jack's stomach, frost crept accross the pane of glass that separated Jack from the warm scene before him. Eventually, the frost blocked Jacke's view entirely. Glaring at the curls of frost, Jack gracefully backflipped up onto the roof of Jamie's house. As Jack paced accross the rough shingles, he looked up into the night sky. He found the moon there, nestled among the twinkling stars. That same Moon that had looked down upon him the night Jack was pulled from the lake. It was the Man in the Moon who had given him his name. If there was one person in the world who could give the winter sprite the answers he sought, it would be the Man in the Moon.

Jack stopped his pacing and planted his staff on the tiles in front of him.

"If there's something I'm doing wrong, can you just tell me what it is?" Jack asked, peering up at the Moon from beneath the hood of his sweatshirt. The moon stared right back at him, but nothing happened.

Jack's brows knit together in frustration. "You put me here! The least you can do is tell me...tell me why." Why. Why was he destined to live life by himself, to be a lonely island in a sea of people? Why could he not successfully reach out to anyone, even when he tried so hard? What had he ever done to deserve this?

Jack waited, looking pleadingly up at the Moon. He desparately hoped for a voice, a sign, anything that would indicate that he had been heard. But the Moon remained as still and silent as ever, and Jack knew he would not be getting an answer tonight.

Jack turned away, crestfallen, but not really suprised. After all, he had been asking the Man in the Moon the same question for the past three-hundred years, and he hadn't gotten an answer then. Why would it change now?

Jack let the wind carry him to telephone lines accross the street. Blanacing like a tightrope walker, Jack walked accross the lines, freezing them with his staff as he went. For several minutes, Jack simply walked, absentmindedly freezing the power lines as he did. Presently, he noticed a warm glow in the sky. Pulling back the hood of his sweatshirt, Jack saw the first golden ribbons of the Sandman's Dreamsand curl out of the sky.

The corners of Jack's mouth lifted in a faint smile."Right on time, Sandman."

He felt his spirits lift at the sight of the warm and reassuring light the Dreamsand emitted as it swirled and looped through the air. Running back accross the power lines, Jack reached up to touch a nearby swirl of sand. The sand morphed into a golden dolphin. Swimming through the air, the Dreamsand dolphin cirlced Jack. It jumped and did backflips, clicking and whistling at Jack all the while, as if urging him to play with it.

Jack smiled at the dolphin's antics, and for the first time since his failed attempt at making the children see him, he laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

A ribbonlike tendril of Dreamsand swirled and danced its way though the tiny down of Burgess. It filtered through the bedroom window on the third floor of an apartment building. It was most certainly a little girl's bedroom: everything in it was pink, and there were pictures of Unicorns and Princesses plastered all over the walls.

The Dreamsand curled like a halo above the head of the little girl--Cupcake--sleeping in bed, clutching a pink stuffed unicorn. The sand swirled and shifted, morphing into the image of a little girl riding a magnificent unicorn. The Dreamsand unicorn trotted and galloped in circles above the girl's head. In her sleep, Cupcake smiled.

Suddenly, the shadows in the darkest corner of the room began to move. They lengthened, spreading accross the walls and floor like a shroud. And then, out of the shadows stepped a lone figure.

Tall and thin, cloaked in a robe made from the darkest of shadows, Pitch Black was elegantly terrifying. He crossed the room with even, measured steps, stopping just beside Cupcake's bed, where the light of the Dreamsand played accross his ashen gray face.  

"Oh, I thought I heard the clippity-clop of a unicorn," Pitch purred. "What an adorable dream."

Pitch's eyes--eyes that were a startlingly bright silver, void of color and expression, eyes that were windows into Pitch's black and empty soul--flicked toward the little girl, taking in her cherub's face and the gentle curve of her smile.

The Nightmare King smiled faintly. "And look at _her._ Precious child. So full of hope and wonder. Why, there's only one thing missing..." Pitch's smile became twisted, ugly. "A touch of Fear."

Reaching out a dingy hand, Pitch tapped the Dreamsand unicorn with a long, slender finger. Inky blackness began to bloom out from where Pitch's finger touched the sand. The Dreamsand unicorn stopped trotting and began to shudder as streaks of black began to spread over its golden coat. In her bed Cupcake whimpered, writhing beneath her blankets as the happiness of her dream was slowly tainted by Fear.

Pitch laughed, cold and cruel. "That never gets old," he said gleefully, as he watched the golden sand turn completely black. He moved his hand around the swirl of black sand like a potter molding clay, shaping it, until it took the form of a tiny ebony horse. It's golden eyes were the only remaining hint that it once was good.

"What a pretty little Nightmare," Pitch purred, as the little horse circled its head, affectionately rubbing against him like a cat rubs against its master. When the Nightmare was within reach, Pitch snatched it out of the air, and held it at eye level. "I want you to go tell the others: the wait is over."

With that order, Pitch released the Nightmare. The little horse turned. With inky ribbons of mane and tail whipping behind it, it galloped through the air, accross the room, through the window, and out into the night. It paused just outside the window to release a shiver-inducing whinny that sounded like the cry of an angry wraith. Then it disappeared.

Pitch also disappeared--into the shadows of Cupcake's bedroom. He re-appeared out of the darkness of an alleyway next to the apartment building. Looking up into the sky, Pitch spotted the full Moon.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Old Friend. You must have known this day would come. My Nightmares are finally ready." Pitch flashed the Moon a predatory smile, baring his elegantly pointed gray teeth. "Are your Guardians?"

* * *

 

Jack was just watching the remaining ribbons of Dreamsand disintegrate into the night when something large shot past him. With an exclamation of surprise, Jack started, watching as the Something disappeared over a nearby rooftop. Curiosity peaked, Jack let the Wind carry him to the trees near the house. From this perch, Jack could see up and down the quiet, resedential steeet.

He found nothing.

Then, Something shot past the base of the tree Jack was standing in. The speed of its passing created a large gust of wind that caused the leaves on Jack's tree to tremble. Determined to find out what the Something was, Jack took off after it in hot persiut.

Whatever it was, it was quick; Jack had to fly low to keep it in sight, bouncing off of parked cars and clamboring over rooftops that got in his path. The Something led Jack into the center of town, near a loading dock. Jack landed on the top of a delivery truck, holding his staff threateningly, ready to go on the defensive if need be.

The momentary quiet was shattered by the booming thud of an empty recycling bin being knocked over somewhere down below. Jack hopped off the delivery truck and landed on the smooth cement floor of the loading dock. Jack looked around, staff held coautiously before him, body tense and ready to attack.

"Hello, Mate," a deep, thickly accented voice came from behind him. Jack whirled around to see a silhouette of the Something leanign against the brick wall of the building. It was tall, looked only vaguely human, and...could Jack glipse a pair of long ears sprouting fromt he top of it's head?

Jack stood stock still, making no move, waiting for whatever it was to come out into the light.

"Been a long time,blizzard of '68, I believe," the voice continued, and Jack coudl see it shift in the shadows. "Easter Sunday, wasn't it?"

With that, the Something stepped out of the shadows. It stood six feet tall, with a sleek, gray ruff that covered lean and and powerful muscle. Looking extremely put out and carrying an eleganty pointed boomerang, E. Aster Bunnymund was someone that jack had not seen for quite a while.

"Bunny!" Jack esclaimed in relief. Putting on an innocent smile, Jack dropped his cautious stance and leaned nonchalatntyl on hsi staff. "You're not still mad about that one, are ya?"

Bunny's long ears fell back just a tad, even as his bushy black eyebrows knit together in an annoyed scowl. It was quite evident that he was still mad. "Yes," he said,"But this is about something else." His grumpy features relaxed a bit, and his gaze shifted to his boomerang. Nonchelantly, the Pooka turned the wooden weapon over in his paws as he called out, Fellas?"

Almost Immedately, a pair of strong hands grabbed jack by the back of the hoodie.

"Hey! Put me down!" Jack yelled, as the hands hauled him off of the groudn and into the air. He was barely able to catch a glimpse of his captors--they looked like bushes of brown fur.

"What the--" Jack began again. He was cut off as he was promptly shoved into the darkness of a cloth sack.

 

* * *

 

 The yeti had trouble hanging on as Jack Frost kicked and shouted muffled protests from inside one of North's old toy sacks. The other yeti--the one who had grabbed Jack and shoved him in said sack--produced a large, round snowglobe about the size of a soft ball from somehwere on his person. Grumbling something to the snowball in Yetish, the second Yeti shook the snowglobe and hurled it at the other end of the loading dock. As it hit the concrete, the snowglobe exploded into a swirling vortex of light. Through this magic portal, the two Yeti could just glimpse North's workshop, sitting high and proud on a frozen mountainside.

The two Yeti turned to the Pooka standing behind them. The first once, still firmly holding the jolting sack, grumbled something to Bunny and gestured with his free hand toward the portal, as if saying, "would you like to go first?"

"Me?" Bunny asked. He grinned and chuckled, highly amused. "Not on your nelly. See ya back at the pole." Smiling knowingly at them, Bunny tapped his left foot paw against the concrete. The ground sudenly disintegrated inward, widening into a large, dark hole. Bunny jumped into the newly opened tunnel, which immedately closed over his head. A pink Aster bloomed from the concrete, the only sign the tunnel's entrance had ever been there.

The two Yeti looked at each other. _That_ hadn't been part of the plan. The yeti holding the prostesting sack shrugged. He lobbed the sack through the magic portal. Both yeti followed the sound of Jack's surprised shout through the magic portal, and to the North Pole.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the writing, I would really appreciate a comment or kudos. Constructive criticism is welcomed! It helps me to gauge how good my writing is, and what I need to improve on. <3


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